Fallen Roses
by Sydney Riddle
Summary: No one knew of the darkness that consumed him. No one knew of the dreams that plagued his sleepless nights. No one knew of his memories that should not have been forgotten . . . except for her. Draco MalfoyHermione Granger


**Disclaimer: **I do not ::sniff:: own ::sniff:: Harry Potter or any of the many wonderful books based on his life, written by the brilliant mastermind J. K. Rowling and copyrighted by herself, Warner Brothers, Scholastic Inc., and Bloomsbury. But I _do_ own Drac—I mean Fiona and the plot. ::adds in an undertone:: Someday I will own him, mark my words, I _will _own him–and his leather pants.

**Summary: **No one knew of the dreams that plagued his sleepless nights.

_No one knew of the dreams that plagued her sleepless nights._

No one knew of his memories—the ones that should not have been forgotten.

_No one knew of her memories—the ones that should not have been forgotten._

No one knew of the darkness that threatened to consume him.

_No one knew of the darkness that threatened to consume her. _

No one knew of the love that would save him.

_No one knew of the love that would save her._

Draco/Hermione

**Author's Note:** This chapter was first posted over Thanksgiving by one of my best friends and own personal editor, Aidan Rae (under her username Tygerkitten). I am so appreciative of her—hugs! Yet it was really hard to send my work to her over e-mail because of my word processor. So, what I'm trying to say is thanks, Aidan. Now you have to write some of your own fiction! She also pointed out that this chapter vaguely reminds her of the song "Hello" by Evanescence. I don't really see the resemblance, but I haven't analyzed the lyrics yet, so I wouldn't know. This chapter wasn't even inspired by it—I didn't get _Fallen _(Evanescence's second album) until February and I wrote this back in October.

_Fallen Roses_

Chapter I "The Dream Part 1"

"You hold the answers deep within your own mind.   
Consciously, you've forgotten it.   
That's the way the human mind works.   
Whenever something is too unpleasant, too shameful for us   
to entertain, we reject it.   
We erase it from our memories.   
But the answer is always there."

"Understanding" by Evanescence

Fiona let go of his hand, skipping ahead of him. The breeze caught her periwinkle dress allowing it to billow behind her, her vanilla hair whipping across her face as she raced along the moor. He ran to catch up with her, enveloping her pearly white fingers in his. He spun her around, her laugh ringing in his ears like fairy bells until both of them floated backwards onto the grass, their breathing rapid as they rolled among the flowers.

Fiona sat up, smoothing her skirt and running her hands through her creamy hair. He lay there beside her, arms behind his head and stared into the sky. Fiona idly picked at a wildflower, and he turned to look at her. The same gray eyes stared back, although hers glazed over with imaginative thought. _How much we resemble each other_, he marveled. Yes, there was the same silver hair, the same white skin, and the eyes --charcoal and foreboding --were the same as well. They were so much alike, yet so different. She met his gaze and smiled, full of content and peace. He smiled back, the feeling sending a rush through his veins. It was eerie to him, so foreign to his face that knew only a permanent scowl. Fiona went back to entwining a few ashen flowers together.

He lay back again focusing on the sky once more. Only moments ago it had been fair and cloudless; now it swirled in various shades of gray, pulsing and churning. _A storm's coming_, he thought absentmindedly but brushed it dismally aside. It seemed that there was no need to meditate in the bizarre vastness of the world around him. He closed his eyes and let the quiet envelop him . . .

His eyes fluttered open to an outlandish gurgling sound to the side of him. He turned over, stretching his taught muscles and groaned. What lay there startled him for a second. What in the –, he thought. Fiona crawled over to him, her small body shuddering, miniature lines of saltwater seeping from her eyes and pouring over her sallow cheekbones. He reached out to wipe the tears away, all the while shushing whatever demons were tormenting her. To his utmost shock, she slapped his hand, doubling over. A warm wave of dark rouge spilled on his starched shirt. Impulse pulled him back from Fiona, her vomit pooling on the grass. It was such a deep, dark, and rich wine-colored liquid. Slowly he lifted his pale finger to touch the stain on his shirt. Time seemed to stand still as he examined it... blood. 

In the expanse of a mere millisecond Fiona's lethal scream split the stifling air. She shrieked, letting all the pain she withheld into the balmy afternoon. Her cries sent chills through his body until his fingers went brittle with the abrupt change in temperature. The sky turned a bizarre violet, the clouds spinning in the dizzying heights. He ran over to her, gingerly placing her into his arms. Her eyes spun crazily in the back of her head so that only the blood-shot whites showed. He ran. He didn't know where to go, the meadow stretching for miles in every direction. The wind's howl replaced Fiona's screams, so that her mouth was opened eternally to the sputters and bursts of her veins as they deteriorated inside of her.

He didn't stop running. He wouldn't stop running. He couldn't stop running. He held Fiona close to his chest, her weak heart beating softly and slowly against the allegro of his. Her tiny hand clutched his with as much might and vigor she could dispose of. _Don't give up_, he prayed silently, _If you die, I die with you_. As he thought those fatal words her hand fell soft as a snowflake from his. Her heart slowed until it came to a final lurch. Dead.

He stopped and lowered her to the ground. _No_, he thought as he knelt down to her lifeless form. He felt her silky, cold fingers in his and looked at her face and the eyes that were still open to the world. Amidst the painting of splattered blood upon, her he saw for what she now was –a shell, nothing more.

He looked up into the sky, the sky that metamorphosed all for the sake of her. He clenched his fists, attempting to choke the air around him. The emotions he had bottled up inside of him were unleashed from their torments, and he willingly let them overcome him.

"NO—" __


End file.
